The Darkest Hour
by GreenRider-Inheritance-fanatic
Summary: Harry was never found after the Triwizard Tournament. The cup returned with Cedric, alive and breathing while the wizarding world had no idea where their hero had disappeared to. Meanwhile the boy-who-lived is caught up in the events of war in another world unable to stop the war taking over all of Britain. When he returns...all havoc will break loose.
1. New World

_"Hurry!"_

"It is ready now Master."

"_Now…" _

Let it drown. Please….let it drown…

"_Bone of the father, unknowingly given…."_

"_Flesh—of the servant—w-willingly given…"_

"_B-blood of the enemy…forcibly taken…"_

Let it have drowned, let it have gone wrong…please…please let it be dead…

"…but no matter. I can touch him _now_."

Burning, throbbing pain, his head threatening to explode in his agony… The center of his torture that dammed scar, the events becoming flashes of light as Voldemort spoke to his Death Eaters.

"_Crucio!"_

Pain beyond anything else he had ever felt, fire seemingly melting his very bones, his head splitting along his scar, his eyes rolling in his head, the flashing light continuing worse than before. He wished it could end…to black out…to die.

They were dueling.

All at once it seemed Voldemort had thrown out the killing curse and the disarming spell. It was all at once that their spells connected, that a dome kept the Death Eaters from coming to their Lord's rescue.

_Don't break the connection._

Music…

His wand was vibrating more powerfully than ever, it was becoming harder not to break the connection as he could see Voldemort trying to break the connection of their spells with no avail. The wood beneath this fingers grew so hot…it could have burst in to flame at that very moment.

"Hold on, Harry," Cedric.

"He was a real wizard then?" An old man. "Killed me that one did…You fight him, boy…"

"Don't let go, now!" Bertha Jorkins shouted, surveying the battle with wide eyes. "Don't let him get you, Harry—don't let go!"

"Your father's coming…" His mother, Lily Potter. "Hold on for your father…it will be all right…hold on…"

"When the connection is broken, we will linger for only moments…but we will give you time…you must get to the Portkey, it will return you to Hogwarts…do you understand, Harry?" His father, James Potter…it was his father.

"Do it now," his father's voice whispered, "be ready to run…do it now…"

"NOW!"

_"Stun him!" _He could hear Voldemort scream.

_"Imperdimenta!" _A muffled yell, he might have stopped one of them…there was no time to stop and look, he fell, stretching out his hand to grab Cedric's arm—

"Stand aside! I will kill him! He is mine!"

_"Accio!" _

He heard Voldemort's scream of fury at the same moment that he felt the jerk behind his navel that meant the Portkey had worked—it was speeding him away in a whirl of wind and color and Cedric along with him…They were going back…

Or at least one of them.

_He was alive._

He had no idea how…he was quite certain when he heard those two words that it was the end of him. Yet there he was the grass against his body and he could hear the crowds as they cheered…

Where was Harry?

Where was Harry Potter?

Cedric was helped to his feet, by who he could not remember. He remembered flashes. It was then he remembered the most important event that had happened in that grave yard.

Voldemort was back. Voldemort was back and stronger than ever.

He tried to tell them that. He really did. The crowds cheering too loudly…his father clapping him on the back…It was the teachers that ran back out of the maze, their proclamation that halted the celebrations.

Harry Potter was not in the Maze. Mr. Potter could not be found.

It hurt.

It was black. Those were his surroundings—complete darkness. He certainly had not escaped pain however. It weighed down upon him, burning his insides and splitting his skull as the young male's head lolled against the pillow of the cot. Around him strangers were still surprised, questioning the strange flash that had accompanied the boy's appearance. At least, that was what Eragon had told them.

The boy and two stones…

Who was he? Where had he come from? The Spine surely was only for the experienced…and even then it could throw anything at those that dared walk its territories. For the first time in two days the boy spoke under his breath, a shaking whisper and the strangers leaned forward to catch what the boy might have said. It might clue them in on where the poor thing was from…what had happened…

"Cedric…don't kill Cedric…"

Cedric? A name…someone the boy knew? 'Don't kill Cedric.' This froze each stranger as they looked to each other, shocked. Instantly pity seemed to grow in their hearts for the boy. It must have been someone he knew…someone he cared for, for the pain was evident in his voice. They could only wonder what was going on in the young male's mind.

He woke on the third day. His eyes opened slightly, closing just as quickly as light bombarded those emerald orbs, before chancing the risk to open them once more. All at once panic grew in his mind, his head flashing from one side to the other, his mouth opening to let out a cry of, "He's back!" yet it died in his throat. He didn't recognize this place. This room…the cot he laid on as he scrambled to a sitting position, his first mistake as he laid down quickly with a groan.

As if summoned by the sound, a woman had bustled in, laying him back down as she shook her head, mumbling under her breath. "Steady now…you've been unconscious for at least two days, maybe more before Eragon found you…"

"Gertrude, is the young man awake?" It was a man's voice that spoke, from what Harry could hear it seemed to come from another room as his head moved to find the source, looking back to the woman, Gertrude as she looked to the doorway.

"He is among the living."

The man that appeared in the room was tall, tall with a stick-like frame with a lean, narrow face with his head covered by graying hair and his intense eyes with full attention on Harry who lay on the bed once more, propped on the pillows. The man was a proud one; from his stance Harry Potter could deduce at least that. Yet, he did not show the signs of wealth for by his clothes he was humble, or poor. Even so, he did not let that show. He did not seem the type that would take too kindly to help from others, he reminded him of the Weasley family straight away.

"And so you're awake."

"I guess," he was wary of the man. Where was he? He didn't have the answer to that question. Who was Eragon? Where had they found him? Who was this man before him?

Where was Cedric?

The question was hard on him as he was pulled into a shocked state once more, finding himself caught, staring at the blankets that covered his frame as the events of the graveyard rushed against him for the second time since he woke. Cedric was dead. Where was Cedric? He was supposed to get his body back to his parents…Dumbledore needed to know Voldemort was alive again. The wizarding world was in danger.

The older man had not spoken during this time, nor had the woman Gertrude. They seemed to notice the look that glazed over the boy, they opted to let him sink into his thoughts, to take his time before he looked at them once more.

"Where am I?"

"You are in the village of Carvahall, my boy, my nephew found you within the Spine. Would you pray tell us who you are?"

"Cavahall?" He echoed, testing the name on his tongue, he could not remember ever seeing such a place on a map…and village? Were there even such places left in the world called villages? "Harry…Harry Potter, who are you?" No reaction came from his name, none at all.

"Harry Pottersson," the man seemed to be testing the name as well as Harry nodded in confirmation, "I am Garrow Cadocsson. Now…can you remember anything that happened before you appeared in the Spine, anything at all?"

"The Spine?"

"The forest boy, the forest."

"I don't know."

He was in a new world.

It had been a month now but that much Harry Potter knew. He had found out he was in the village of Carvahall, in a land called Alagaësia. Upon asking how he could get back to London he had received many odd looks. Which left the young wizard confused, very confused; in this land…so far away from London he was without a home to stay at. As a solution Garrow had offered him home with him, his son and his nephew, Eragon, the one that had found him in the Spine. On the condition that Harry helped pull his own weight around the farm he was welcome to live and eat alongside them.

In the first few weeks Harry had searched for his wand with no luck. It was gone, yet strangely, the stone, pure white in stark contrast to the polished blue stone that sat beside it before he and Eragon as they sat around them, seemed to give off the same feeling his wand once had for him. It was warm…it was magic. It wasn't just any ordinary stone…that much he told Eragon, for it seemed for he and the boy that was closest to his own age grew to be close friends in the months to come.

Even more so when the stones turned out to be eggs, when they hatched for the wizard and farm boy. That was when the new life Harry had found had turned upside down. That was when both boys were thrown into chaos, escaping the village with Brom, the story teller and their dragons…

Saphira and Enya.

The years to follow would throw the two boys into war and turn them into men. Their experiences would teach them morals and lessons they would carry with them for the rest of their lives. Their bond became that of brothers, their dragons like sisters. They met many people along their struggles, among their first battle they found themselves with their first injuries that would make their lives harder…

Until they met the elves…

Fate had nothing against throwing everything and anything it could against the two dragon riders. Each challenge harder than the last, each finding themselves confused along the path, ready to stray when sorrow enveloped them, they would never be the same by the end of this war…

By the time they ended Galbatorix and his rein.

In this war one Harry Potter almost forgot his other life…the world he was born in…the world in which another war was being fought just as the one was in this world…

That was until he was thrown back once again…and the White Rider was not alone.

A/N: So….my first HP/Inheritance Cycle cross-over! Well let's see…Cedric is somehow alive, Harry is in Alagaësia, became a dragon rider and his dragon his Enya (that's Celtic go look it up) and he helps Eragon in the war….hmmm I wonder what other changes came from this…

Yes I skipped around a bit, the first bit of this chapter was little snap shots from chapters twenty-six and twenty-seven of GoF, some of them not word for word as I played around a bit to make it interesting.

More in depth memories of Harry's time in Carvahall and other places may or may not turn up later. We'll see. I'm still working out the kinks to this idea but the plot bunnies just starting running loose from their pen and I had to rein them all in…so that's how this thing came to be here.

From a very brain-dead author to her readers, thank you for reading, please favorite, alert and review as you wish…hopefully the second chapter should be around soon.

-Green.


	2. As one Door Opens

A/N: So…I'm typing up this for the second time since my lap top decided to fry on me….which sucks. So, now I'm on my desktop. Typing—again, wonderful, for those that reviewed on the first chapter: thank you! I loved looking through the reviews and seeing that so many people are interested in my fan fiction, hopefully I can answer a few questions within this chapter…

Or leave you with more.

Notes: Murtagh will be a bit different. It has been a some time since the war (think years) in which has given time for the poor guy to heal a bit…and with Harry around…yeah the process was sped up much more. Expect a fun Murtagh which I enjoy writing very much.

Other notes: Ah! Irish! Google translate is an amazing tool don't you think? Yes, the strange inscription is in Irish…I'm not going to put down the inscription in English just yet. If you wish to go see, see. I think it's kind of mysterious don't you think?

As for Watcher: Enya! I love the singer, though I wasn't actually thinking of her when I named Harry's dragon. I was thinking of the meaning of Enya in Gaelic, which is "little fire." Frankly, this was one of the name choices I might have given to my newest hermit crab, but after choosing to name it Indie after Indiana Jones and the curiosity and adventurous nature of the crab the thoughts of "fire" and what-not was still fresh in mind while typing the first chapter.

Thus Enya was born.

-Green

_-This is a Line Break-_

Emerald eyes closed beneath raven hair as Harry let himself take full use of the peace, the breeze blowing as the ship swayed and the elves spoke to one another, there was nothing of importance that was in need of the white rider at this moment. He was fully ready to just surrender to his waking dreams. Nothing but the darkness and occasional memories or visions, he smiled, even with eyes closed he new by the sounds of splashing that Enya and Thorn were splashing in the sea.

Thorn…Thorn meant Murtagh. He remembered that day now. He remembered it clear as day, his talk with both rider and dragon.

"Where do you think you are going?" His voice surprised the older male, who turned sharply, his hands pausing at the girth of Thorn's saddle. Harry approached, leaping to the ground from Enya's leg. He did not make a move for his weapon, rather stood calmly before the rider that was once his enemy.

"Have you come to stop us?"

"Running away won't solve your problems."

"Who are you to give such advice?"

"Because I tried the same thing," Harry replied, one brow raised as his fellow rider sighed. "You could stay," he continued, "you could come with us. The only way you can redeem yourself is to prove who the true Murtagh is, without the control of a tyrant on your shoulders."

"I am Kingkiller."

"You had no control over yourself. You both are not what you once were forced to be. You have changed brother."

""We still think of tearing down mountains and filling the sea with blood."

"It will heal in time. Stay with me, let us heal together."

"Cedric?"

Harry nodded in response, Murtagh knew him well, like a brother he never had, just as Eragon was his brother, but Cedric…only Murtagh could understand Cedric.

"We will leave soon. I can sense it. We have to. We will start anew in a new land." The rider of the red dragon nodded slowly, and thus Harry's vision of the memory faded and was replaced by something new.

The crowning of the Varden's new leader…Harry frowned with the memory. Politics, he hated bloody politics. It had been that day that they had tried to bring Harry and Enya under their control…them and Saphira and Eragon. Eragon who had already been adopted by the dwarves, Harry by any case planned to remain free of those that wished to control him. In this decision he angered many and satisfied just as many. He made both enemies and allies. While Nasuada could not directly control Harry son of Potter however, she found that she could keep him loyal to her through Eragon Shadeslayer. Even then the white rider could escape her grip.

It was not by chance that many came to dub the dragon rider as Silvertongue.

Harry could use words to sneak his way in and out of the Varden camp, his tongue sharp as any sword. The boy just could not stay put as his brother could. He needed to move, just as Enya needed to move…to fly.

He often needed to escape the past that haunted him.

No longer had he seen visions through Voldemort's eyes, he had stopped seeing such things the moment the sword plunged through his gut in his first battle, while attempting to reach Eragon to assist him with the shade…not it was usually those nightmares of the graveyard, of flashing green light of death…of those visions caused by dementors spurred in his mind…a woman's scream.

Through the years and battles these nightmares…or memories in his waking dreams were added to by the blood and gore of war. Unlike the wizarding world a sword could strike more fear into a heart than a wand. Death was never a thing of honor. Harry had seen all too many soldiers scream for their mothers whilst holding back their entrails as crimson blood soaked their hands and a horse would shatter their bones, stopping the screaming abruptly.

Fire, blood, gore, screaming, _war_…

_Harry!_

He blinked, rising from his waking dreams to see two blue eyes staring into his own filled with concern for her rider. _ Little one… _ Enya spoke with a rumble in her chest as the great female dragon swam alongside the ship.

_**I am ok…Enya. **_Harry replied, breathing slowly as he reached out to run his hand over the dragon's snout.

_Let us heal and put aside the past…these thoughts of war. _The white dragon replied quickly, _let us splas and swim in the water as we once did! _There was no mistaking the eagerness in the dragon's voice, her eyes alight. There was no way Harry could not share in her joy. While her rider could sink into times of darkness Enya was ever the bundle of energy, loving and gentle, a raging temper for anyone who would dare harm those she acknowledged as loved ones.

So it was that day Harry allowed himself to be pulled out of his shell, chuckling as he leaped onto Enya's back, joining Murtagh and Thorn in the skies above, the later ignoring the glares of the elves below. They would soon accept the red dragon and his rider. Harry knew they just needed time. Everything needed time after the events of war and time was something they had plenty of now as he dove with Enya, Thorn and Murtagh into the refreshing waters of the sea, laughing as he kicked to the surface, hair plastered over his eyes and the sun glinting off of red, white and blue scales as Saphira eagerly joined them.

If only they could freeze time then and there, when nothing could disrupt their peace, with the breeze playing with the ship's sails, with the laughter of the two riders while Eragon spoke with their elven companions…Yes Harry would have loved to keep this moment just as it was. That was all changed with the call of…

"Land Ho!"

They landed upon sandy shores, avoiding the rockier landings in the distance. Before them was only one direction to choose: straight. The three riders took positions in the head of the group as they entered the forest, trees towering over them and cutting off the light, yet not all of it.

The plants here were strange, far different from those back home but still they called out to the minds of the fellowship just the same, it was life. Large leafed shrubs waved in the wind from the ground, moss grew on the heavy, dark bark of the trees, the sound of trickling water could be heard in the distance, as of yet, unseen.

The group did not stop here.

They continued, until the landscape chose to change in great contrast, dropping into a valley both wide and yet bowl-like in shape, hidden away from the rest of the world. From the center great spires of mountainous rock rose above the lakes and rivers, forest and meadows riddled below, standing in grand majesty. It was here that it was silently agreed would be the home of the dragons and riders of new.

Where once it was quiet this land became brimming with life and homes of many, great caverns built into the spires to become cities for all dragons and riders alike.

In these years Harry, Eragon, Murtagh and their partners of hearts found peace for a while, teaching the riders that found their way to them, flying through the sky over the valley…exploring the surrounding land on foot.

It was on one of these days that the six discovered something…unusual. A cave, having remained out of their sight for so many years before in their adventures the three riders now leapt from their dragons to push aside the mossy curtain, venturing inside, the entrance big enough to allow all three dragons to follow into the cavern with room to spare.

"Strange…that this place could have gone unnoticed for so long…" Eragon said with a frown, looking to either side as his brothers did the same.

"It is old," Murtagh mused; on hand brushing old vies away from the walls of the cavern.

"Eragon…Murtagh…over here," Harry called from the shadows, his fingers trailing over an inscription before him.

"Writing…" Murtagh and Eragon spoke their observation as one, hardly noticing the glazed look that had seemingly came over their companion's face.

"_Tá mé__an doras__a osclaíonn__Dúnann__agus__. __I gcás__cúis__amháin__a bheidh__doras__eile__a leanúint__. __Ndán di agus__cinniúint__reáchtáil__as láimh a chéile__ar feadh__mo__conairí__. __Cogadh__agus síocháin__a athrú__go deo__na lámha ar__an am."_

"Harry...that may not be the best i—"

Murtagh was cut off as the feeling around them quickly changed to one of falling, before their sight turned to darkness...

-_This is a Line Break_-

In the forest, somewhere outside of Godric's Hallow, two eyes looked to the smoke filled sky, where, for just a moment...for just a second the smoke cleared in a large blast, the impact blowing the brunette back onto her arse as her mouth fell open in a wide gawk, once regaining her footing the young woman was quick to run off to the others that shared home in the hidden village, surrounded by wards.

What was that? What did it mean? Somehow "it" had gotten through the wards. Why call it "it?" Hermione Granger had no idea what the source of the blast could be, but soon...soon she would find out. But first she would get the others...she certainly was not going to venture towards an unkown source by herself just yet...

Britain was much to dangerous to be out and about alone anymore. Even within the warded village.


	3. Discovery

Chapter 3

A/N: Oi...so many revisions done on this. After a lot of stuff going on with my life I'm finally back to my lovely fanfictions, and boy did I miss them! I'm sorry to keep you all waiting and I hope you enjoy another installment to The Darkest Hour!

The cave was spinning, or **they** were spinning. Murtagh was not sure what was going on, nor was he quite sure he wanted to know what was going on. Harry Silvertongue had spoken words of power, and Murtagh could not stop his brother before the current events were put in motion. Now a sensation of falling had replaced the spinning, and the Red Rider was beginning to feel sick. He could no longer make out the walls of the cave; they were falling through shadows.

As quickly as it had begun, the sensation of falling stopped abruptly, and with the impact two groans sounded with an assortment of grunts and growls. His eyes opened, blinking with the contrast of light to the previous darkness. When his vision adjusted and he could get a clear look of his surroundings, he was met with the sight of trees-not the cave. Stars winked at him from the sky above; so many stars, but not in the positions he remembered them to be. That was the first thing that sparked a fuse in the back of his mind; something wasn't right. Murtagh sprung to his feet, disregarding the pain that rolled through his limbs wave after wave. _Thorn?_ He gently pushed forth his thought to his partner.

_ Murtagh. _The male dragon nudged his head against his dark haired rider's shoulder, worry evident in the one, large eye that faced the human. Well, at least Thorn was safe, Murtagh thought, the dragon making a snort that could have passed off as laughter. The human male shrugged, Stretching slowly, one hand always close to his sword as he looked around.

The feeling was still there. The feeling that something was out of place, or rather-everything was out of place. The trees were silent. The ground was still; the hairs on his arms stood straight as his eyes glared into the darkness.

Something wasn't right.

A whispered word created a small ball of light to show push back the shadows where the male stood, crouched as a cornered predator. The rustling leaves did nothing to avert his paranoia and world weary senses. Thorn growled from behind him, sensing his rider's unease. The dragon was filled with the same discomfort. This was a foreign place-so different from where they had came. A crash had him spinning, his sword point against the throat of some unseen opponent.

"Calm brother, it's only me, Eragon Bromsson." The younger male held up his hands to Murtagh, bowing his head as Saphira bowed her head to walk under the trees and join him. Murtah's sword lowered.

"I could have killed you." He muttered.

"You didn't." Eragon corrected him, putting a hand on his half-brother's shoulder. "You are getting better my friend."

"Have you seen Harry?" Murtagh changed the subject, tense once more as he looked behind Eragon, hoping to find the little rascal there and sighing when there was just Saphira's legs.

"No, I have not seen him since I found myself here in this forest; I worry what the words have power have done. We could be anywhere...He could be anywhere." He could see his worry mirrored in Eragon's gaze despite his outward collective calm.

"We have to find him then."

DARKEST HOUR

Smoke.

He had seen it from the sky and disregarding instinct to run the opposite direction he ran _toward_ the blasted thing. He couldn't hardly get his racing heart under control as he raced through the trees, grimacing with each branch that would lash across his face. He didn't even know what was driving him now, why go towards a potential dangerous "thing" when he could be safe at camp?

He really should have thought this decision through.

There was no going back now though. He was so close-he could smell the smoke. It was everywhere and he coughed as it filled his lungs and he drew his wand, speaking the spell that would illuminate the area though his voice was hoarse and grating in his thoat, but a yell found him tumbling down a deep slope.

He immediately regretted his decision on light-it would probably been better to not see the sword that was pointed at his throat, and the wose sight of a very angry dragon.

"Who are you, where are we?" The voice that spoke was male, and the by far the strangest voice he had heard in his life. It was light, and fast, very fast. The words quipped from the lips of the dark haired being who was currently holding him at the tip of his blade from where he lay with his back pressed against the ground. Raising his wide-eyed gaze he was able to take in what details his eyes deemed important in his panic, the sharp angled features of his attacker, the white scales of the dragon; the male's emerald green eyes glaring down at him that rung a bell in the back of his head...

But what struck him clearly was the haggard breathing of the other male, the apparent wheeze to his voice as he made to make another question or quip before passing it off. Putting the clues together his brows furrowed.

"You're wounded."

"That's none of your concern!" The dark-haired one lashed out, his blade pressing against the other's neck. He could see the exhaustion in his attacker's eyes, oh Merlin, where was his wand when he needed it?

Oh yes. It fell out of his hand when he took his fall. It was now at least a foot away from him with no way for him to grab it without this man slitting his throat.

He really should have learned a different way to fight.

A/N: Mwhahahaheh! That is it for today my lovelies, I'm excited to hear what you think of this new development and oh Harry is hurt...wonder how that happened. Oh well, he seems intent on fighting if he has too, good man.

The next update should be...soon. I know I always say this but really, I have been busy with life. I'm trying guys, just keep reviewing and what not.

I probably won't be answering questions this time-I'm not revealing anything, mwahahahahaha.


	4. Ambush

A/N: Well, after loosing everything I had I realized that maybe my computer is trying to tell me something. This caused some major changes to happen.

Also for mainly Harry Potter fans I am going to be coming out with two new HP fanfictions very soon. Keep your eyes open!

A/N 2: I feel kind of bad that I strayed away from my original idea of having Draco under Harry's blade, oh well.

o0o0o0o0o

"All right, let's try this again. I'm not going to hurt you, and if you don't hurt me and put away that big sword and draw off the angry dragon everything will be fine." This really wasn't going well. The dark-haired stranger was becoming more exhausted, yes, but that really wasn't his goal in any of this! The dragon only seemed more angry with with his words and Cedric sighed. On other terms this wouldn't be like this, by the look in the man's eyes this was not something he wanted. The former hufflepuff could see fear, confusion...exhaustion. It was all there for him to see and he wasn't so sure he liked what he saw. For all the death eaters he had met they would be quick to put him in Azkaban, this man had not. He also doubted that any death eater could be found with a dragon...From Charlie's account dragons were too wild to be tamed or intelligent to be used as warriors under Voldemort.

"My name is Cedric," He finally admitted, letting the male settle down and the sword lower. Cedric already recognized the signs of the man's body giving out before he fell and the dirty-blonde-haired male stepped forward to catch him. "Careful, you don't look to good," He told him.

"Don't feel too good," The dark haired male replied and Cedric could not stop the chuckle that rose in his throat despite the awkward moment. Emerald green eyes were staring back up at him, and in the back of his mind memories were struggling to take over. He didn't have time for that, there was still an issue that there was a dragon and a stranger here, no matter what his other instints put forward on trust.

"You're going to be fine," He assured the male, "can you tell me your name? I need you to stay awake until help comes."

"My friends call me Silvertongue," The male mumbled, but upon Cedric's words he managed to stay awake. The hufflepuff just couldn't understand what was going on, he could understand the exhaustion, but enough to put the man out the way it was starting to look was beyond him. From the looks of things he had a little bruising to his sides but that was all he could find. He was cetainly no healer. That also left open another train of thought-what kind of name was "Silvertongue?" He kept his own tongue still, however, from asking. That would have been rude at the moment, and it would not help him if he exhausted the male further, then there would be no chance to ask questions at all. With Silvertongue set up by a tree Cedric made for his wand under the gaze of the white dragon who had moved to wrap around the dark-haired man.

Producing his patronus Cedric spoke his message to the badger, "Report to the village, have them send out any able men, make sure Hermione is around...we'll need a healer." Watching the light run from him once his message was done Cedric sighed; he was left to watch over the man and the dragon that would not stop giving him what he was certain was the death glare.

"What did I do?" He asked the white giant, and to his expectation he received no answer. Cedric shook his head, throwing his hands in the air. What was he thinking? It was a dragon for crying out loud! He had no idea what spells Silvertongue was using to keep it from eating the both of them, but in any case, it was still a wild beast. He felt that much safer with his wand in his hand and his magic ready. Obviously the dragon was not happy.

o0o0o0o

"Surely he could not have gotten into too much trouble," Eragon was fighting a losing battle with his half-brother as they ran through unknown territory upon Murtagh's hunches alone. "You can't just think that he would find trouble the minute we were-"

"That is exactly what I think brother, he has the reputation of trouble finding him and tehre is nothing he can do to avoid it. He is a magnet for chaos!" Murtagh growled, his eyes narrowed as he searched through the trees, probbing for any presence of Harry. "Here I thought you would know this better than anyone, you were on the same side with him during the war, were you not?"

"Let's not bring up that subject brother, the war is long pass." Eragon spoke, working to bring peace back to the air and was sucessful as Murtagh took a deep breath a nodded. "That said, I suppose I would have to agree with you...Harry knows his own experiences with trouble, and so do we. That also means that he should be able to take care of himself until we get to him. This is why I am not too panicked yet."

"I think you should panic now."

"Why's that?" Eragon looked up to see Murtagh come to a halt in a clearing and his hand flew to his sword, much like the red-rider was doing at that very moment, and both swords were drawn in a matter of seconds at the sight of both of their dragons struggling on the ground and unable to get up and fight whatever force left them there.

"We have company brother," Murtagh muttered, gesturing to the figures that were coming out from under the trees.

"Oh, _wonderful. _They don't look too friendly, do they?" Eragon replied as a flash of light headed toward him and he whispered the words that would bring up a sheild to deflect it. This seemed to shock his attacker, but only for a moment and he could only guess Murtagh had done about the same before dodging and rolling into a new position to escape another flash of red light. What were these people even shouting? It was total nonsense!

"Put down your wands Death Eaters!" Came a yell from in front of them as a red-haired male ran forward, and the two half-brothers raised one brow but reacted accordingly. Once the red-haired male was in their grasp Murtagh dispatched him of the piece of wood that seemed to be his weapon and had a sword to his throat while Eragon worked to fend off the rest, but they just kept coming.

"Murtagh, we may have a problem here," Eragon muttered, deflecting another beam of light. "We don't even know what we are up against."

"And Harry could be in a much worse position, just dispatch them...Saphira and Thorn are still stuck!" The figures were drawing in and Murtagh's mouth became a fine line that morphed into a scowl. This was about the time he started to fight dirty-

Until he was hit in the back with the red light, and before he could run forward to cut into his attacker he fell, succumbing to the darkness. Even with ancient magic binding many of the other figures in vines and rope, Eragon was quick to follow as his limp body crashed against the leaf ridden ground. A woman stepped forward and checked both figures before looking up at her fellows.

"They're stunned, and by multiple spells as well." She told them to their relief, and the red-haired male was already sitting up, kicking his sword weilding attacker in the gut. "Ronald, that wasn't needed! We need to question them...no one has gotten through the wards before."

"Bloody bastard tried to kill me!" Ron yelled in his defense, "Just be glad that Charlie and his friends are holding down the dragons or we would all be dead now. If you need them for you silly questions then take them back, I don't want anything to do with them."

"They aren't death eaters...no mark." Another man called out after checking the other fallen male. "And the dragons don't look like any species I am aware of. The others are going to be curious about this Susan. Let's get them back quickly, all right? Everyone to your brooms, Charlie and the others will take care of the dragons for now."

A/N: I know I wanted to give you guys a longer chapter, but I was just told I have to pack for a trip so I wanted to get this update in as soon as possible before I won't have any time to type for a while, I hope this can sedate you guys for a while and thank you so much for all the reviews and reading this fanfiction, you really don't know how much it all means to me!


End file.
